Why Don't You Get Out Of That

The Naturalistic Literature Of This Country Has Reached Such A State That No Family Of Characters Is Considered True To Life Whichdoes Not Include At Least Two Hypochondriacs, One Sadist, And One Old Man Who Spills Food Down The Front Of His Vest.

Sunday Morning May Be Cheery Enough, With Its Extra Cup Of Coffee And Litter Of Sunday Newspapers, But There Is Always Hanging Over It The Ominous Threat Of 3 P.m., When The Sun Gets Around To The Back Windows And Life Stops Dead In Its Tracks.

The Great Arizona Desert Is Full Of The Bleaching Bones Of People Who Waited For Me To Start Something.

Charlemagne Either Died Or Was Born Or Did Something With The Holy Roman Empire In 800.

At Fifteen One Is First Beginning To Realize That Everything Isn't Money And Power In This World, And Is Casting About For Joys That Do Not Turn To Dross In One's Hands.